Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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Tala was surprised by the semblance of what seemed to be genuine emotion on the man’s face. ”Oh… She and I may have gotten along” She said softly, at a loss for how she could respond beyond this. She didn’t push it this time, she could tell that it was too raw of a subject and she was in no way equipped to navigate the minefield that was a stranger’s emotions. Were he a member of her clan, maybe she could figure it out, but this was too far out of her wheelhouse and it was plain enough that she’d only make it worse.
She mirrored him in taking the drink in front of her, deciding it was as good as anything to break the tense moment. She almost wanted to ask to hear more of this Weaver, but refrained from that spark of curiosity. Even she could tell when curiosity was unwelcomed. It was better to let the conversation move along, she decided, and only make him speak of what he wanted to about his sister.
”Shapeshifter?” She asked with some surprise, giving an impressed little nod. ”I didn’t know there was such a thing. That’s okay, knowing the general region is a good enough start. The closer I get, the more people ought to know where to point me to.” It seemed a reasonable plan to her, at least. Until then, she’d gather all of the information that she could from Snowcloak.
She blinked in surprise, completely having missed that they hadn’t exchanged names. She was really going to have to get better at this ‘meeting new people’ thing… it had never even occurred to her to ask. ”Tala. Yours?”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
That simple act of compassion as she stepped back and gave him the space, the choice, to address his pain or set it aside, was worth more than she probably knew. Korbin could tell that she was curious but refrained from asking, and it raised her a good few notches in terms of respect in his eyes. Not many knew how to leave well enough alone.
Korbin chose to save the topic of Weaver for another time. There was too much to say, and he was too raw, not distant enough yet from his own pain. Whatever songs he had to sing to keep her memory alive would have to wait until his voice stopped cracking.
"Mmh, it's a bit complicated, but... The Gods sometimes grant gifts to some people; they are Accepted, and may choose to follow the Old Gods and become Attuned - shape shifters. Or Ascended - long lived but unfeeling, surviving on blood and sustenance from their New God. Or they remain Accepted and can call on any gods for aid. Magic users are seen with distrust by the gods; they're called Abandoned. But we're all still human, supposedly."
It was difficult to say if it was really true about the Ascended, but... the few Korbin had interacted with were living enough. Just prone to unnatural stillness at times, that creeped him out a bit.
"Korbin. Korbin Hale," he replied, offering up his own name. There was some hesitation before supplying the family name - it seemed superfluous now that he was the only Hale left - but perhaps that made it only more important to keep it alive.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Tala knew she’d have to hear the list a few times before she could understand just what kinds of people existed here. The “ascended” sounded a bit frightening to her, she’d had a fair share of nightmares about frozen corpses walking, and the description brought those images to mind again. ”Ah, I think I am… Accepted, then? I don’t know of any particular gifts I have.” She certainly didn’t think there was anything magical or god-touched about her. ”So people choose to gain magic, or shapeshifting?” Most of her interest in this new world was to discover new physical knowledge, like new lands, flora, and fauna, but she was almost as interested in all the strange metaphysical traits this world seemed steeped in.
She guessed she was going to have some trouble learning to retain new names, so she made a point to repeatedly think his name to try to associate it with his face, and file it away. ”Hello Korbin,” She bowed her head in a deep nod that signified greeting in her home culture.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Korbin nodded; it was a fair assumption to make, and no doubt she would have it confirmed if she ever visited a shrine. "You could Attune, if you wished it," he agreed, "but magic... Either you are born with it or you are not. The only people I've heard of that acquired magic they never had before were cursed by a god. I don't think it's something to strive for." Korbin didn't smile, but there was a crincle of wry amusement about his eyes.
He returned her nod, feeling rather a bit awkward as the greeting was done out of turn. It struck him as odd that he could carry a conversation like this, so easily, with a complete stranger. Yet he remained unable to look most of the people he knew in the eyes.
"So... do you need anything? Clothes, supplies..? There's not much to go around, but I could direct you to some who can help if you require..." Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he was keenly aware of his own lack these days. Burning down your family home left very little of even the basic things... of course, he hadn't planned to survive the flames himself, so it was an unforeseen problem.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
”If magic can be considered a curse, I think I am much happier without it.” She said, although a part of her struggled to see exactly how it would be a curse. What about magic made it so terrible to have?
She considered his question for a moment. She’d prepared as well as one could for a journey to a place they didn’t know. ”I think I have what I need… I brought many little trinkets and whatnot from home to be able to trade for food, and everything else I need is likely to be somewhere in my pack.” She looked down at her bag where it sat, leaned up against her chair. She was slightly worried she might be forgetting something, but she’d been travelling all her life with just what she could carry. ”Unless of course there was something necessary in this world besides food, water, weapons, and clothes.” She added.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
"Mhm, it has its uses, but I agree." There was a ttime when Korbin would have happily traded the favor of gods for the same gifts as his family had, but after recent events he wasn't too sure. Magic had not saved Weaver from the dragon.
He listened to her account of possessions, and shrugged. In any other world, that might not suffice, but this was Caido. Barter and trade was the universal means of acquiring whatwas needed, and what one did not have in means could be gained by labor. Easier than some ways, harsher than others.
"I think you're set," Korbin nodded, admittedly taken aback by how prepared she was. "Few who arrive in Caido are so well equipped... Most don't even arrive by choice. You are lucky, in more ways than one. Unless you ever feel like blaming anything for your coming here, of course."
That ghost of a smile reappeared, dry and almost amused. It was a little easier every time, så both soul and facial muscles relearned the art. Part of him was reluctant to engage with things, as if daring to laugh would somehow diminish the loss he had suffered. But staying in the haze of misery wasn't exactly living... And he had promised to give it a try.
Unable to think of more to say, Korbin fled to the glass again, sipping the burning liquid and waiting. To see if Tala had more questions, other things to say... or if she was bored enough to leave yet. Admittedly he wasn't cheerful company, and Korbin wouldn't blame her.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Tala could only think of uses for magic, but she decided not to delve into why it would be such a curse. She was beginning to think that avoiding anything that would take one out of favor with the gods at all was completely worthwhile.
She gave the slightest contented smile, pleased that she had done so well, and perhaps the smallest bit smug that she had done so much better than others. ”I’ve always traveled with everything I needed to survive, it seems the rules of survival don’t change much between worlds.” She said, using her fingers to absentmindedly spin the shot glass around on the table’s surface. ”Yes, I have only myself to blame for that.” She chuckled, true though it was.
For a moment the silence hung and Tala debated excusing herself and returning the fire’s side, but she found she enjoyed Korbin’s company. ”So, besides owning this place, what do you do?” She asked conversationally.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
A sensible lifestyle, and one Korbin had started to emulate as of late. Mostly because everything he owned was the clothes on his back, a burned out husk of a house and this bar. Everything else was gone. No comforts, no luxuries... not even the bare necessities, some might suggest. But he was alive. And that was the agreement. No promises had been made for anything else.
Still, Tala's question threw him off a bit. There was a beat of silence as he tried to think of what he had done in the past, what he had aspired to be. That was ashes now too, and Korbin wasn't sure there was any reviving those corpses.
"I... used to be the extra hands," he said, bemused. "Did whatever was needed, whenever, just to get by. My sister hunted. Our older brother too, when he was still alive. I traded what they brought home... Before the attack I had started to apprentice as a healer."
He shrugged, not sure if he would continue with that. There was no reason to. No reason not to. Korbin stood at a crossroads with endless paths branching out before him, but all he could do was look back at where he had come from. Back to the burned bridges in his wake.
"What about yourself? Reindeers, was it? We only really have luxere here. Almost the same, but not quite."
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Tala noticed that her question, which she’d thought would be innocuous, seemed to throw Korbin off a bit. She wondered if she should take it back somehow, or change the question quickly, but finally he answered. A small frown crossed her lips as she realized that it wasn’t just Korbin’s sister that was gone. His brother, too, and she figured probably his whole family from the sound of it. She said nothing, though sadness did cross her eyes. ”A healer? I’ve always wondered what that would be like. I’m sorry that didn’t work out, at least for now. Do you think you’ll return to an apprenticeship eventually?”
She smiled and pictured the herd of loud, antlered animals she’d known her whole life. ”Yes, reindeer. Pretty much all my clan did was shepherd them about. There were a few specializations, but most of us did everything and it all came back to moving reindeer around. I loved them, and will certainly miss them… but I was not cut out for reindeer herding.” She said, and then recalled he’d mentioned some similar animal. ”What was it you said? Luxere? What are those?” New animals to find out about, that was just the kind of thing she came here for.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
"I don't know," he replied, with perfect honesty. Korbin didn't plan. Didn't know what he wanted, beyond the next drink. Someonenhad convinced him to live and so he was alive, but everything else was just a haze. A blur, where the only solid fact was the absence of his sister, the one who had given him purpose and motivation.
The idea of resuming the work under Loren didn't make him feel anything, really. Apathy, slight reluctance. Same as with everything else. His ownership of the bar was so far in name only, the management left to more functioning people. For now, he merely watched. Tried to get used to the burn of loneliness and pain... but it wasn't the kind of feeling you carried easily.
As the topic turned towards luxere, Korbin pointed out a set of antlers on the opposite wall. Slightly different in structure from the animals Tala should be used to, similar but not the same. "They're magical," he told her, like he was talking about the weather. "The antlers glow, and the light wards off darkness. Dark magic, dark creatures... they're our main foodsource here."
The Grounders had issues with that, he knew, which was faintly amusing to Korbin.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
”Ah, sometimes it is better not to know, I think. Fewer expectations means fewer disappointments.” She said with a shrug. She found herself over-excited for things at times, and it usually lead her to feel worse than she did if she simply hadn’t bothered thinking over it.
Her eyes followed the gesture to the antlers. She smiled warmly when she realized that she ought to have recognized them, even if the structure was a tad different from the reindeer back home. ”That’s wonderful! I wonder how they became magical.” She mused aloud. ”Well, gods I suppose, but that’s still broad. Hmm, makes me wonder if they’ll taste the same as my deer.” How similar could animals across worlds be? That sparked more curiosity, ”Do only humans come through portals?”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Humming indifferently, Korbin had nothing to really add to the philosophy, beyond a general sense of agreement. He had learned early on not to plan too far ahead, but that kind of detached lifestyle had drawbacks too. You became aimless, adrift, and when your own self no longer sufficed to provide purpose and meaning, it was difficult to find a path.
"Gods, or maybe they were mutated by magic," Korbin mused with a light shrug. "There was a war between the Old Gods and the New about three hundred years ago. It changed many things... turned Halo into what it is now." Maybe it changed the animals too. Maybe the luxere horns always glowed,
"Can't say I've eaten meat from outside. It's different from ningo - " he pointed at her empty bowl of stew - "or Ursur, and nothing like fish." He was no culinary expert, and certainly not a gourmet. Korbin had eaten most things a normal person would balk at... in raven form. Carrion wasn't too bad if you overlooked the smell.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Old gods, new gods… there was much she had to learn about this world. ”What did Halo used to be like?” She still found it hard to imagine anything but tundra. ”Where does one go to learn more about the history of this place? The loreseekers as well?” She figured it would be the answer, but it seemed best to know just where she ought to head.
”Ningo…?” She looked at the empty bowl and made a note of the name of the meat, but had no clue what kind of animal it came from. ”And ursur? What are these?”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Before his world became a smoldering ruin, Korbin would have taken great pleasure in regaling this woman with tales and stories of Halo, real and made up all mixed together, so that she had to figure out for herself which was true. He could have sung songs and played music, and been every bit the bard his sister suggested he might become.
But he wasn't that person anymore. And already the conversation was wearing on him, draining away energy and patience he didn't have to spare.
"Similar," he replied shortly, "but not as cold. The seasons shifting actually meant anything. Now, all we have is before and after LongNight."
He emptied his glass, and topped off her glass with what was left in the bottle. "You could find a bard. Or any natural from Halo, if you want lore on this place. Elsewhere, yes. Locals or loreseekers." Korbin stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet but able to keep upright.
"Ningo is a fowl, they're everywhere in town. Ursur are giant, mean bears with tusks. And now if you'll excuse... I've pressing business."
With a sketched bow, half mocking and ruined by the way he staggered halfway through, Korbin moved off in the direction of the outhouse. His head was pounding, and he couldn't say if it was because of the booze, the woman or the general sense of despair.
He should be proud to have managed a whole conversation. But all he felt was drained.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
